A few weeks ago, I went online and searched for somewhere to stay in Salzburg, Austria so that I could be in one of the cities where this highly competitive soccer tournament was taking place. Tickets were out of the question, but I wanted to be among some crazy fans who had made the pilgrimage to support their motherlands. I found the cheapest room for 34 Euros per night at this place called Fan Camp Salzburg. It turns out, they took a giant warehouse, put up some temporary walls with open doorways, and threw (12) cots in each room. I was a bit hesitant, but I decided to just go with it in hopes of a good story or two about sleeping next to some crazies.
Friday night, I took the evening train to Salzburg, stopping in Landshof, one other town that I forget, and Freilassing before getting me to my destination. The best way to travel on the trains if you are staying within the Bavaria region of Germany (Salzburg is also included) is to wait by the ticket machine and buy a 'Bayern Ticket' for 27 Euros with up to (4) other people heading in the same direction as you. Then, instead of paying 19-30 Euros for your ticket you pay more like 5 Euros. The ticket is also good until the following morning around 6-7am (I'll get to why this is funny later). So I rode with two students from the University of Regensburg who were heading home for the weekend, both really nice, one an education major, and the other a medicine major to become a doctor. We had a really good conversation about different things from why I get to be in Germany this summer to the best things to do in Berlin and so on.
By the time I finally corrected for the wrong directions a woman gave me in Salzburg, I arrived at the Fan Camp 'Suite' at 11pm and decided to call it a night in hopes of an ambitious Saturday exploration of Mozart's hometown. I set my alarm for 6:50am, but slept through it and finally rose at 7:30am. I'd like to note that my rising was less attributable to any form of an internal alarm clock, and more on account of the couple hundred 40-50 year old men that have the same snoring problem we all know too well (for this I would like to thank the Greek and Russian fathers that started my day).
The first place I came to in the city was the famous shopping street that had all the famous brands, some traditional Austrian clothing companies (so expensive), and even a McDonalds. The funny thing is that every shop on this street must conform to an extremely uptight set of zoning regulations set by the city, and thus, each has a magnificent metal-work sign outside. McDonalds' had this intricate spirally structure with a brass lion and other details. In search of cheap food, I resorted to a McCroissant ham and cheese breakfast sandwich. It hit the spot. Then I found a flea market, and spent an hour talking to an old woman (mostly in German!) about her items for sale, their history, and random facts about the area. She tried to weave some sly sales tactics on me, and had I not met some of my grandmother's antique-frenzied friends, I might have fallen for her trickery. Anyways, I didn't have any cash yet, so I had to go back later to buy the few items that I saw as 'must buys.'
I spent the rest of the day seeing the main attractions such as Mozart's Geburthaus (Mozart's birth house), the Salzburger Dom (church), listening to the Glockenspiel bells, getting lost in year-round Christmas stores, exploring the castle that hovers over the town and offers incredible views, and eating Mozart's balls (literal translation of a famous chocolate candy sold all over the town--I managed to buy an extra supply of Mozart's balls that I will be bringing home for my sisters wedding.) At 8:45pm, I made my way into the fan zone where thousand upon thousands of excited Russians and Greeks converged. It was quite a sight and culminated the multiple fan gatherings I had seen earlier in the day. Russian ended up winning 1-0 with a nice goal early on.
Although Fan Camp was a great experience, the current exchange rate convinced me that 34 Euros a night for a cot, which didn't even have sheets or a pillow (I had to buy a cheap sleeping bag from the front desk) wasn't worth it. I boarded the last train to Munich at 11:30pm, splitting a Bayern ticket with two military troops that were in Salzburg for the night playing poker. We got to the Munich train station around 2:00am, and the next train to Regensburg wasn't until 5:36am. Had I not been so tired, I would have tried to stay awake, but I ended up finding a corner next to some ,sleeping elderly tourists on a bench where I caught up on some shut eye.Now back to the Bayern ticket. So what happens is that a group of five people take the train into the city to dance, drink, party, etc. and they stay up through the entire night until the first train home which is still included on the same ticket they bought the night before (as long as they get home by 7am). This in itself isn't that funny, but when you get on a train, and you feel like the only person who can say their name without slurring, you realize that you are in for a great ride. I spent the hour and a half ride talking to three 19 year-old girls about being our age in Germany. One girl's mother was an American, born in Tennessee, who studied in Munich, got married to her father, and never left. She was especially excited to talk to an American in German, because I share a similar Americanized-German accent. The ride was the best train ride thus far. There were also drunk men in cowboys hats running through the train from the lady who demanded to see their ticket and a verbal fight between a goth and a man that looked like Adam McCaughan (for the Phi Sigs reading this).
It was a great weekend and I slept all day Sunday recovering from this fun.
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